


Right, Please

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Never Have I Ever, Omega Reader, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-09-07 19:05:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16859656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: A little game of Never Have I Ever leads you to a bold evening.





	Right, Please

“Never have I ever…” Dean started, trailing off and looking around the room for some inspiration.  It had gotten harder and harder to think of things that you’d never done, with the three of you playing the game for as long as you’d been.

You glanced at the clock to see that you’d been at it for nearly two hours…and with just the three of you playing, you’d gotten through a lot of rounds.  

“Fucked an Alpha!” he finished triumphantly, holding his beer up toward you in a cheers.  You rolled your eyes.  Of course macho, Alpha Dean had never fucked another Alpha – he was much too interested in Omega pussy of whatever kind.

You took a swig, eyeing Sam and seeing that he was smirking at you.  You rolled your eyes again, the younger Winchester thinking over his options for his play.

“Never have I ever hunted in stilettos,” Sam said, laughing before he even finished his sentence.  Dean joined him, remembering the time a couple months ago when you’d had to chase down a vampire while in stilettos and a black evening gown.

You’d seriously considered embedding the heel of the shoe in their heads when they’d imitated your run after that one.

You took another drink.  “Not fair, guys,” you said when you’d swallowed.  “You’re not even playing anymore – those were both direct jibs to get me to drink.”  

They shrugged, taking voluntary drinks from their beers to avoid answering.  You thought through your memories of the Winchesters, trying to think of something that you’d never done that they had to make them both drink.

Finally, you had it.

“Never have I ever gotten a tattoo,” you declared, smiling like the cat got the canary.  Both men sputtered, Sam sitting forward in his chair.

“Seriously?” he asked, forgetting that he was supposed to be drinking.  “You don’t have any?”

You shook your head.  “Come on, Sammy.  You’ve stitched me up in enough places that you’ve seen most of my body.  Have you ever seen a tattoo?”

Sam sat there to think it over, realizing he hadn’t.  You looked at Dean, who had a horrible grin on his face.  “What?” you asked him.

Dean shrugged, taking a drink of his beer.  “I kinda always figured you were an ass-tattoo kinda girl,” he said.  You scoffed, reaching over to punch him.  Sam laughed.

“But seriously,” Dean continued.  “I know you’ve got the anti-possession on both that necklace and bracelet that you wear, but we really should get you one a little more permanent.”

You looked between the brothers, seeing that they were both serious now, game all but forgotten. 

“Okay, let’s go.”

Sam looked surprised that you agreed so readily, but it actually had been something you’d been planning to do soon.  The closer you got with the Winchesters, the more likely it was that you’d be used as bait, and demon warding could only help.

You were up and out of the room before either brother had even stood up, but you heard them coming after you down the hallway.  You headed for the garage by way of your room, grabbing a few hundred dollars cash to pay.

No words were spoken as Dean turned the car on and drove, pointing toward a city that he knew housed a few tattoo parlors.  It was an hour’s drive with just the radio to entertain you, but it was good.  It gave you a bit of time to sober up for what you were about to do.

Although being a little tipsy would probably help with the pain of getting a tattoo…

When Dean pulled into the parking lot of the strip mall, red TATTOO sign still blinking, there were only a few cars around.  It was late enough that you’d hopefully have the shop all to yourselves, not really wanting to explain the symbol you were going to get – or show off the location you were planning to get it.

You headed inside with as much confidence as you could muster, catching the eye of the free artist.  He was around your age and fairly attractive, if you had to judge, but you weren’t here for that.  One deep inhale of the room told you that he was a Beta anyway, and you were an Alpha-only kinda girl.

“I’d like to get a tattoo, please,” you said, trying to ignore the look on the guy’s face when Sam and Dean stepped up behind you, their strong Alpha presences undeniable.

He gulped before looking back at you.  You were already holding out the sketch of the anti-possession symbol for him, and he took it in hand.  “Give me a minute to get the outline done, I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he walked away.  “Oh, make sure it’s exactly like that picture, please!” you called after him, seeing him give you an okay sign over his shoulder.  You turned to the boys, smiling at them.

“You were planning this, weren’t you?” Sam asked with a smirk on his face.  You shrugged, glad that the little game had given you the final push you needed.  You spent the time waiting for the outline looking at the tattoos on the wall, seeing a few familiar runes and symbols that had entrenched themselves into everyday society.

“Okay, I’m ready for you,” the tattoo artist said, and you smiled at him.  “Right this way.”

He led you to a room in the back, which was a good thing.  Sam and Dean followed, ever the attentive friends.  When they were still a few steps away, the artist leaned in to you.

“You okay with this?” he asked, glancing at the Alphas.  “You’re the one who wants the tat, right?”

You smiled, nodding.  “Yeah, it’s all me.  These goons are just here for moral support.”

The artist studied your face before nodding, a bit of tenseness seeping from his stance.  He probably wanted to check up on any Omegas coming in to his shop, and you admired him for the thought.

“So, where’s this baby going?” he asked louder, so that Sam and Dean could hear.  You turned your back on him, staring the boys down as you reached for the button of your jeans.

“Right, please,” you said simply, pulling your jeans down over your ass and laying on the table.  The thong you had on was stringy enough to give the artist enough skin to work with, and you were  _living_  for the bug-eyed look that Sam and Dean were sporting now.

“Y/N!” Sam said, averting his eyes once he’d come to his senses.  Dean just smirked, winking at you.

When you looked back at the artist, he was laughing.  “Yes, ma’am,” he said simply, pressing the outline to your ass so that it would transfer.  

It really was easy, getting the tattoo, especially with the professionalism and friendliness of your artist.  He got to talking, introduced himself as Steve, and kept you distracted as his needle worked.  You went back and forth from looking at him, twisting to see what he was doing, and looking to the boys.

After not too long, Steve was done and covering the tat.  “I’d get those jeans off once you’re home, wear something a little more airy for the next few days while she heals,” he suggested.  You nodded, taking his instructions as law.  “Hope to see you again sometime, Y/N.”

You shook Steve’s hand, giving him his payment before leading Sam and Dean out of the shop.  The car ride back was rougher than the ride there – partially because of the strange way you had to sit to keep the tattoo from smarting, but partially because of the Alpha scent wafting in the car.  You hadn’t noticed it in the shop, but in the tight confinement of the car, either Sam or Dean – or both – were smelling up the place awfully strong.

When you got back to the bunker and climbed out of the car, it was only to be pushed back up against it by Sam’s hands on your shoulders.

“You are going to drive us crazy, Y/N,” he practically growled.  Dean stalked up next to him, his hand finding your waist before drifting down to where your new tattoo was under your jeans.

“Make us stare at that ass for an hour?  Too much, sweetheart,” Dean agreed.

Suddenly your game of Never Have I Ever came to mind and you could only think of one thing.  “Never have I ever been fucked in the Impala,” you said. 

Dean grinned, looking to his brother.  “Gotta fix that one, don’t we, Sammy?”


End file.
